Thank you so much to Bamberlee for editing!
After the really fun drama of the last chapter, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to update this. But I am- because Amber sent this, and it would be unfair not to post it after the work she put into it.
I'd like to reiterate that if you don't like Eva, don't like Adam, don't like that Everly never wore pants (you may want to seek counseling if you've spent FIVE years being triggered by this. She doesn't actually exist and neither do the pants she isn't wearing), or anything about this story in general, I'd suggest finding something else to read. I'm not asking for advice on my characters or plot. If you think Eva is stupid, then by all means go find a story with a smarter character. If you think Adam says Eva's name to much, go find a character than merely grunts at his love interest or stares at the wall. Or better yet, go write your own story and quit reading this one and telling me how much you don't like it. I hope this abundantly clear. It's not meant to be bitchy or rude, but I think people feel like they know me or my writing, and that it's free game for them to tell me what they want me to write.
Thank you to those who reviewed the story & were kind, and for those who were guessing what happens next. Thanks for the messages regarding the story, especially everyone who has been reading since the very beginning. My week has been all over the place, and I appreciate everyone who reached out.
This will be the last update for a few weeks. Thanks for reading along, and I think you'll find the ending satisfactory.
We don't leave.
At least not in my dream.
I open my eyes to white; white snow built up against the large glass panes, white sheets bunched around my hand firmly grasped in Adam's, and white towels, placed on the nightstand beside the bed. There's a hint of familiarity to it, because in my dream, everything was white, too.
I had stood in the garden with Adam, my nightgown having reshaped itself into something more structured, but white. Adam stood next to me in a white shirt, and together, we looked at white flowers while tiny flakes of white snow drifted down around us. They glittered as they fell, and in my dream, Adam announced we were staying.
His declaration wasn't any sort of surprise. Even my subconscious knew he was enjoying his time in Amity. Other than a few minor stresses that were out of our control, we had nothing to worry about.
So it made sense that my brain would insist he wanted to stay here.
I think it also knew that we couldn't, not without leaving part of our families behind.
I wonder how well that would go over, right as Adam's fingers squeeze mine.
"Did you sleep okay?"
He mumbles the words into the mess that is my hair, and he presses his head closer to mine. His body is warm behind me, and had he not been here, I would have frozen. The fire had long died out during the night, and even with the heavy comforter and blankets, I would have been very much alone in here.
"I did," I tighten my fingers back through his, and I push myself back against his chest.
During the night, he'd taken off his shirt, preferring to be as close to me as possible. It was as though he didn't want anything between us, even though I'd fallen asleep dressed for bed. I sink back and close my eyes when he pulls me closer, angling his arms in.
Adam is safe, too.
Maybe safer than Amity.
"I had a really weird dream though."
I confess this when he nudges me with his nose, and I feel him shift closer. His chest is warm and solid, and I'm tempted to go right back to sleep.
"I swear there was someone in the garden," I half whisper the words, fearing they'll sound ridiculous. No one could have been in the garden last night. Judging by the snow outside the windows, it would have been impossible for someone to camp out there. "I swear I saw someone looking in here before we fell asleep."
"Someone outside? Was it your uncle?"
Adam answers back just as quietly, unwilling to really wake up. It was proving impossible to leave this cozy, sleepy space with just him and me, and solving the mystery of whether or not someone was in the garden was even less appealing.
"I don't know. Maybe?"
The unsettling feeling threatens to push back up, but it falls right back down when Adam pulls me back against him with his arm so he can press his lips to my cheek.
"I think you were dreaming, Coulter. Only your grandpa or your uncle would be brave enough to be outside during a snowstorm."
I smile against him, his hair touching my cheek and my world becomes a blur of him, and the thought of a stranger peering in at us all but falls away.
I was right.
I sit beside Adam, scooting closer and closer as I stare at the man at the table. My grandmother pauses in the doorway to offer him coffee or tea, but his attention is solely on us.
His eyes are dark blue, but they hold no warmth. They are as cold as the heaps of snow outside, and there isn't much to the smile he throws in my direction. I try to smile back, but it comes out forced, because he seems familiar, though I can't imagine why.
"Thank you so much. You're too kind." The man gratefully accepts the coffee from her, and he flashes a quick grin before he turns away. While I can't be certain he's the man I thought I saw last night, he's here now, and his focus feels oddly specific.
I try to place him.
He's too old to be Peter, but he's strong looking. He'd knocked on the door this morning to announce he was lost, and he quickly explained he'd been sent from Abnegation to see if anyone in Amity could help a few struggling families. "This season has been rough on us. Lots of sick kids, sick adults, and the cycle starts all over. I was thinking maybe Amity could send a few meals their way."
He spoke easily, his tone smooth and even and he moved past my grandmother before she could even answer him.
"You came all the way from Abnegation?" Adam stares at him, and I know he doesn't quite believe him. Adam's fingers flex as he reaches for his fork, and he waits a beat before shaking his head. "I've never seen you there."
"It's a large faction," the man answers, and he hasn't even told us his name. "But I know you. I know your father is from there."
Adam doesn't react right away, not even when I hit his arm on accident.
"Ma'am, where is your husband? Is he close by?" The man's voice changes from the soft, gracious tone it previously held, to something with a hidden bite. I recognize it as the same one my father had when he dealt with some of the men who didn't care to give him information he wanted. "I don't want to intrude…"
"Oh you're no bother," my grandmother smiles, but there's a weird look on her face. She stares at his rumpled coat, the collar damp from the melted snow, and his wrinkled shirt. It's not all grey, but a dark shirt and a tan jacket, and his hair looks choppy, like he'd lopped it off himself. "He's almost back. He went down to make sure the kitchens were running. Something about a furnace that wouldn't turn on."
"I see," he fidgets with the coffee, taking a slow sip. His stare turns back to Adam and me, heavy with pause when he sees my hand on Adam's arm.
"We haven't heard anything from Abnegation. Usually they contact Harrison when they need something. I was certain he'd sent plenty as a preventative measure before the storm hit," my grandmother returns to stand behind him, and in her fingers is the large frying pan she had been washing when he first knocked. Her head tilts as she observes him, and she takes a slow step closer. "Shouldn't they have contacted him if some are in dire need?"
"There's a reason you don't know all the things I know," the man answers carefully, like he's selected these words just for her. "There's a great sense of shame in needing help rather than giving it. It took a lot for them to even ask."
My grandmother steps closer, and her eyes are tight with worry. "I see."
Her words are lost, because he's not even looking at her.
"Adam, right?" His stare is piercing, but Adam isn't bothered. "And Eva? Did I hear that right?"
I don't remember anyone saying my name, so I nod very slowly. For some reason, I don't really want him knowing my name.
Or Adam's.
"You know, I think I'll head down to the kitchen. I'll talk to your husband down there. I hate to intrude upon this family breakfast," the man sets the coffee back on the table, and he hasn't taken a single sip. "You all live here?"
"We're staying for a bit. Just kinda visiting," Adam plays it off casually, and he shrugs. "Why are you here again?"
"How long are you two staying? How can you be here if you don't live here?"
His question is pointed.
"I'll let Harrison know you're looking for him," my grandma interrupts him, and her tone is firm enough that he holds up his hands to show he means no harm. "I'm sure he'll be more than happy to help you out with whatever you need."
He looks at her, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features, but he pushes a quick grin at her. "Thank you. Thank you for the hospitality. It was very…kind of you." He rises up, and he towers over the table with an air of uneasy oppression and his eyes find Adam.
He stares in an obvious manner, intensely, as he tightens his coat.
"I'll see you around."
He leaves us sitting at the table, the warmth completely sucked out of the room.
"I don't like him."
Adam and I walk down to the Dome together, and it's harder than one would imagine.
The snow wasn't forgiving in any way. The air held a sharpness I'd been neglecting in favor of spending my time inside with Adam. The front porch had tricked me into thinking it wasn't that bad outside, but two steps down the stairs told me otherwise.
I was also right that my grandma didn't have any pants. She did have some leggings that were soft and warm and probably once Holly or Paisley's, and she gave me one of my grandpa's shirts and a coat. I pulled my hair up in a bun and grabbed a scarf from by the door, but none of it was enough to keep me from freezing as we walked through the snow.
There was another chill as well.
This one was unspoken, hovering in the air like I expected the man from breakfast to jump out from behind one of the homes and attack.
I keep looking ahead, waiting to see footprints or tracks or something to show that the man had come this way, but there was nothing. It looked like a few members of Amity had come out to clear the main path the best they could. The main pathway was flattened and the snow had been shoved aside, but it was still snowing, and it was sticking.
There were no footprints, though.
"The guy from breakfast?" Adam walks a step ahead, his stride faster than mine, and I refuse to fall behind.
"I thought he was really creepy and weird. And I'm pretty sure I saw him last night. I think he was the one outside the garden." I wipe snowflakes out of my eyes, and Adam looks down at me with one very intense gaze.
I'd seen a lot of looks from him lately, but this isn't a new one.
He thought I was nuts.
"You really think he was outside all night? He would have frozen to death," Adam answers, and he takes my hand in his. My grandma had given us mittens, but they did little to ward off the cold. I miss the feeling of his actual hand and not the thick fabric, so I hold onto him tightly, stepping carefully over the slick path. "Not to mention he risked getting stuck in a bear trap. Or…scare trap."
"He knew our names and we don't know his," I try to reason logically, but Adam shrugs it off. "I know you think I'm crazy. But I never told him my name."
"I don't think you're crazy!" His protest brings his stare back to me, and his eyes are patient. "I think maybe you were dreaming. We did forget to close the curtains, but it was storming. Even if someone was in the garden, they wouldn't stay long. He definitely couldn't get in, either."
"But our names…" I tighten my grip on his hand when we turn right at the fork in the path, and the Dome looms up ahead. "He knew yours and mine."
"Well, my parents are from there." Adam sounds like he's trying to reassure me, and I realize he doesn't think this man is weird at all. "People from Abnegation are strange. Asking for help is like, an unforgivable sin. He probably got voted to come here and didn't want to." Adam stops, and smiles widely at me. "Who cares, anyway? We aren't going to Abnegation and he'll probably leave once he gets whatever he came for. I'm sure he felt just as weird as we did."
"Okay," I agree, but I don't.
In fact, I don't think the man was even from Abnegation at all.
I'd gone with my father a few times. My father and Rylan occasionally dropped by to see them and check up on things. Rylan adored Adam's grandma more than anything in the world, and often was the first one to volunteer to go, even insisting he'd drive.
Even if going to see her wasn't on his agenda.
But every time we'd gone, even with Rylan leading the way straight to Natalie Prior, the faction had been quiet. The houses were quiet. The people were quiet. Their clothes were grey, a blur of no color, and while they were nice, they were too nice. It gave me the creeps, because I just wanted someone to cause some commotion or laugh or do something to make some noise.
In all my times visiting, I'd never seen anyone like this man.
Everyone in Abnegation had neat hair. Neat and clean clothes. Nothing special, but most definitely grey.
I make the decision that I will borrow someone's phone and call my father. Because if someone was lurking around Amity and pretending to be from another faction, then he should know. He might not be able to get here, but he undoubtably had men who could.
"Should we go to the kitchens first? You think your grandpa's in there?" Adam breaks my train of thought, and I nod when he points toward the looming structure.
"The door to the kitchens is this way," I lead him around to the side of the Dome, and through a door leading toward the back. We walk quietly, his fingers wound through mine, until we find my grandpa, surrounded by members of Amity.
"Did someone come find you?"
I sit on the counter while Adam chops vegetables with far more enthusiasm than necessary. My grandpa stands beside him, wiping a large butcher cleaver on a cloth and occasionally nodding at whoever came up to him with a worried look on their face.
He sent them away immediately, then patiently waited until they weren't around to tell us this wasn't his favorite part of the day. Amity abhorred violence, and they tried to avoid killing their animals for food, but that didn't mean the other factions didn't want meat to eat.
"No. Was someone looking for me?"
My grandpa looks at me, waving the knife around as someone sneaks past with a bowl of grains. They were working on making a dinner tonight for anyone who needed it, because most of Amity was snowed in. They were all hoping the snow would let up, and the word had quickly spready that if it did, dinner would be served.
Which meant the volunteers in here were numerous, and the kitchen was busy and warm.
I liked it.
We garner a few smiles as a guy close to our age stops to show my grandpa the plate of pastries he's made, and my grandfather gives him a glowing review.
Then he turns to me, and sighs.
Exaggeratedly.
"Do you two like scones? He's about to go make nine dozen more. There won't be nine dozen people here tonight if it doesn't stop snowing." He pauses to make sure the guy is far enough away, and he shakes his head. "Courtney's nephew. Nice kid. Great baker. Needs constant reassurance he's doing great. I don't have time to reassure him of such a thing."
"Does he need it from everyone?" Adam looks up, and he's swarmed by a group of people coming to collect the vegetables. They take them from him in one sweep, then dump a pile of new ones for him to cut up. "Or just you?"
"Just me. He drops stuff off for Eden and me all the time, then wants to know how it was. What feelings did it conjure up as we ate it? You know what else I don't have time for? Writing a food blog for him," my grandpa scowls, but he stops when Courtney's nephew waves to him from across the kitchen. "Good guy though. If he ever gets married, his wife will never starve."
My grandpa waves back, then turns to me.
His cheerful expression falters, and in its place is careful concern as he wipes off the butcher knife without looking.
"Now tell me just exactly who was in my house this morning."
"How old are you now, Eva?"
Courtney's nephew sits right next to me, so close that his leg is against mine. I want to gently push him away just so I have some space to breathe, but I can't. He's tall, nearly as tall as Adam, and he sort of looks like Adam. They're both equally fit for different reasons, though Adam has better hair.
Alex's hair is short for living in Amity, but long hair probably got in the way of his baking.
"Eighteen. How uh, how old are you?"
I try to politely scoot away from him, not because he's mean or creepy or weird. He's the very definition of nice. So nice that he's missing the fact that I don't want him to sit so close, and so nice that he's missing the way Adam is staring at him like he'd like to shove the plate of scones right down his throat.
"Twenty. It's so weird to see you here. You know, my aunt always talks about how much she missed having your mom here when I was younger. Would have been kind of cool to grow up together, don't you think? Best friends ending up together. It's like a story just waiting to happen."
Alex smiles, large brown eyes lingering over my mouth, and I feel Adam sit up straighter.
"Your mom and my aunt were great friends. She said she felt awful that your mom didn't get to come to her wedding. But uh, I was thinking if you're staying, maybe we could hang out. Get to know each other. Everyone always talks about you…and uh, how pretty you are."
Adam takes a sip of his tea with slow, burning hatred for Alex. I can see it in the way he swallows, like his jaw hurts.
"You are pretty. I hope that's not too forward, it's just…you know, everyone in Amity is… they're all thrilled you're here. They've been talking that you might not go back. I just wanted to get to you first." Alex keeps talking, slowly moving the mountain of dessert toward me, and I shake my head no.
"Thank you so much, Alex. It's so good to see you, too. The dessert looks great, but I really should eat lunch first," I smile brightly, hoping he won't be insulted.
But he is.
His smiles dulls just enough that I know I've hurt his very fragile feelings, and even worse, his hopes that I'd be won over by the plate of sugary, over-sized scones dripping with some sort of chocolate sauce.
"I um, I…." I pause as he manages to scoot closer, and I throw him one blinding smile. "I'd like to introduce you to Adam. He's my…." I stop, because I don't have an actual title for him. Friend is a little informal, given I'd confessed that I'd been in love with him and refused to admit it in case he didn't feel the same way. Lover sounded gross, and like something Rylan would dramatically gasp in a strange accent while winking. Boyfriend felt premature, though it was more accurate than fiancé.
Person I'd slept with might get my point across, but I wasn't sure we were at the level of just announcing that to someone we just met.
"Adam. I'm with Eva. We did grow up together, and we'll be returning to Dauntless together as well."
Adam sticks his hand out to Alex, and Alex's eyes lose a little more of his burning hope as he shakes Adam's hand with all the enthusiasm he can muster.
It's not much.
"Oh, you're…Adam? Are you her brother?"
"Hardly," Adam answers dryly, and I have to focus on drinking the tea my grandpa had given us so I don't laugh. "I came to Amity to get Eva. So, therefore she'll be going back with me."
"Therefore. Wow, you're fancy in Dauntless. But uh, does she want to go back? Did you even ask her?" Alex leans away from me, but only so he can really look at Adam. "Are you, like a cousin? I know she has a lot of cousins..."
"He's my…"
"She wants to go back," Adam insists, and he scoots closer to me. He moves himself a whole inch over, and I'm suddenly in the middle of them pretending they aren't glaring at each other. "You don't even know her."
"I literally just said that," Alex points out, and he pulls back his plate of scones so Adam can't have any. "I said I wanted to get to know her. Look, last I heard, Eva was refusing to marry some guy from Dauntless. Told everyone she was never getting married. Was that you? Because I'm thinking it was you."
Alex looks at Adam with the faintest hint of polite triumph, and there's an inkling of smugness beneath his smile.
He knows he's not wrong.
My words from weeks ago come back to haunt me, as I'm reminded that I had vehemently denied ever wanting to marry anyone.
It was true.
At the time, I was so mortified by everyone being in my business that I could barely admit how I felt. Marriage felt like an impossible concept, something that should be reserved for a time when I wasn't eighteen and didn't have everyone waiting to see if I got married. It wasn't that I wanted to turn around and marry Adam today, but it felt insulting to him considering he'd told me he loved me.
"No, that was another Adam," Adam shrugs dismissively, and his hand finds my ribs. His fingers curl around, and he pulls me closer to him without looking away from Alex. "I'm sure there are plenty of girls here just dying to get to know you. And your muffins."
"They're scones…" Alex answers darkly, strangely annoyed for someone from Amity, and he stands up slowly. "Hey, uh Eva, it was nice talking to you. Adam, it was…great to meet you. I hope you both enjoy your stay here. I'll tell my aunt you said hi."
"Please do." I watch as he picks up his dessert and leaves, pausing at the very edge of the serving line to glance back. He looks right at me, ignoring Adam altogether, and the look on his face is total confusion.
"Well that was incredibly awkward," I lean against Adam, and he snorts in response as we watch Alex head back into the kitchen.
"He just really wanted you to eat his scones." He leans forward to rest his head against mine, and I hear him sigh. "I do want to know what you were going to say. I think Alex and I both deserve to know the answer to who I am..."
"Oh well, if that's the case," I smile, and I take his hand in mine. "I was going to say…." I wait for a second, and I feel him smile against my hair. "Next door neighbor. I mean, you can't get closer than that."
"The pinnacle of all relationship goals," he laughs, huffing in mock amusement as my grandpa arrives with lunch.
Alex is long forgotten as he sits down with us, sharing a riveting tale about how he's so sure someone is stealing all the ice cream out of his personal freezer.
He's also forgotten much later, when Adam hovers over me, his mouth attacking my neck with a vengeance I don't remember him having, until I'm whimpering his name over and over into the dark and snowy night.
The next few days are gone in the blink of an eye.
I almost forget that we're only in Amity because the threat of death is hanging over us. It's easy to be fully immersed in this world, and Dauntless grows to feel like a fuzzy memory, like something that's not real.
It feels very real when I trek upstairs, and open the door to a room I hadn't spent much time in. My grandma sends me into my mother's old bedroom with an armful of laundry and I realize half the clothes I've been given were my mother's. I stand in front of her closet, and I'm hit with the reeling sensation of missing her so much that I almost can't move.
Everything in here reminds me of her.
The pretty, pastel fabrics. The few darker dresses that don't quite fit in with the rest. Boots and shoes in her size, a single lone jacket that's fallen to the floor, and the mirror with flowers stuck all over it, glued in place so they wouldn't move. Her name written on a card, in twirly, spiraling handwriting as someone wishes her a happy birthday.
The feeling of homesickness is like a punch to the stomach; gone just as quickly as it came, and I shove the dresses back into the closet and shut the doors so I don't stare at the pink fabric any longer.
I close the door behind me, but I pause at the top of the stairs, feeling the faint ghost of her, like she'd stood in this very spot countless times, feeling homesick for a place that didn't feel real.
The snow falls for another day or two, stops, then picks up right before dinner.
Adam and I stand on the porch, watching the last few light snowflakes get pulverized by the heavier ones. They lose the fight immediately, getting crushed into the white snow below them and vanishing.
"Are you cold?"
Adam looks down at me and I look up at him.
His cheeks are red from the chilly air, but I flash back to them being red for another reason.
In the strange and unending transition between becoming an official member of Dauntless and being trapped in Amity, things had shifted. More than shifted, actually. I had left Dauntless an entirely different version of myself. An Eva who was deathly afraid of being alone, deathly afraid that my father's prediction that I would die if I was alone would come true, and deathly afraid that no one would ever look at me the way Adam did.
Here, in my grandparent's house and a faction of slow, unhurried pace, I'd found the painful growth I needed. There were no intense godfathers to save the day. No parents keeping tabs, no uncles scoring anything, and no security team tracking my every move.
Amity felt wild. Raw. Like this was the final act of our initiation, one that couldn't happen back in Dauntless. While I might have feared for my death, for Jeremy had taught me that danger wasn't exactly going to announce its arrival, I was no longer afraid of being without my father. I'd long thought I'd never break away from him, nor did I want to, but I was learning I was capable of way more than I thought.
Including loving someone.
That hadn't been any easy realization. It was a dumb one, because it wasn't one I needed to worry about. I was capable of love, I just hadn't thought I'd ever be on the receiving end of it, and I'd never have a reason to love anyone other than my family. I'd assumed I'd never get the chance to love someone. To feel my heart skip a beat in their presence, or my chest tighten like I couldn't breathe.
I figured I'd find it some day in the far future, when I was more sure of who I was, and less focused on being alone.
But I was wrong.
So wrong.
Adam was right there, right in front of me, giving me what I'd wanted all along.
It had happened to him, too.
The shift, unavoidable and utterly unexpected, but very much occurring.
Even though he'd started initiation the same Adam as before, he seemed so much more than the Adam I knew. He was stronger. Faster. Braver. Willing to risk his life for me, fearless in the pursuit of what he wanted.
But it went beyond the superficial changes that we could see. There was a real happiness beneath the smiles thrown in my direction, and a genuine appreciation of our time together. Not that he didn't appreciate it before, but it was entirely different to sit on a ledge and grudgingly tell each other to have a good year, than to lie beneath him, watching his entire body tense up and contract as he groaned my name and curled his fingers into mine.
He seemed desperate for the same connection I wanted; something intangible, but very much burning between us.
It was sort of intoxicating.
I could almost forget about myself and focus only on him, watching the way his eyes screwed shut or the muscles in his shoulders seemed to constrict. I liked the feeling of his bare legs against mine, his warm palm on my stomach, sliding down lower, until I sighed his name, or giggled it, dropping my head back as the warm rush of bliss washed over me. Even then, I liked to force my eyes open just to catch a glimpse of him, his hair falling onto his face, or the sharpness of his jaw softening when he realized he was doing a great job at getting me off.
It was nearly impossible to explain and I couldn't even begin to untangle any of it. The closeness I felt to him, and only him, and the drunken euphoria being with him brought. The heavy wave of exhaustion that our nights culminated in, as warm hands sought to pull me back to him, like it would never be enough.
It was entirely ours and ours alone, and each second that passed only strengthened what we had.
We'd return to Dauntless as Adam and Eva, but not the same Adam and Eva who left.
"Do you want to go inside?"
I crane my head up to look at him, his features sharper and more handsome than ever, and I shake my head no. It still felt unreal that he'd choose me, almost like maybe he didn't have a choice, but he did. He'd always had a choice, and it wasn't just because he thought I was pretty.
He liked me for me, and he told me this often. Mumbling it against the skin of my shoulder, my neck, or my temple, groaning it as he came, his whole body tense and tight and pushed to the limit of how good he could feel.
"Okay, good. I was going to give you my jacket." Adam steps closer, and when he's right by my side, he wraps his arms around me. He stays silent as I wrap my arms around him, wiggling my way as close as I can possibly get.
"Thank you," I rest my head against his chest, his jacket discarded because the porch is warm, and we stay this way for a long time.
My mother once told me she hated letting go of hugging my father. At the time I'd rolled my eyes at her, not really caring that she liked to grasp onto him like her life depended on it, but I was realizing it wasn't always about her.
My father needed someone to hold onto him, and he would die before ever admitting that he liked it when my mother refused to let go.
I feel the same way now.
I hold onto Adam tightly, watching the snow fall in the front yard, neither of us able to let go.
"Absolutely not."
A few hours later, Adam and I sit on the couch with our feet propped up, and Holly pauses to hand us each a mug of hot chocolate. To the side of me is my mother, holding Lyle and showing him all the things on her phone. Ginger sits with Adam, demanding his full attention while he tries to drink both his hot chocolate and hers, and across from them, is my father.
Sitting there with one very unimpressed look on his face.
"Harrison, it's not Peter. You said you'd catch Peter, and you haven't. I have complete faith you will, but I'm not leaving Eva and Adam here any longer. They should return to Dauntless tonight." My father speaks quickly, ignoring Rick nearly tripping over his feet, then spinning around awkwardly to see if he should take the risk of sitting by my father.
Rick takes in the loathing sneer on his face, then wisely chooses to go sit by the fireplace.
"There's another storm coming tonight. Eva and Adam stay here," my grandfather answers casually, sipping his tea and gesturing for Rick to add more wood to the fire. "Rick, toss another one on there. In fact, you and Everly should probably head back now. Before you're stuck here. I don't have any extra bedrooms unless you want to sleep in Everly's childhood bed."
"Harrison," my father sighs, and he looks at my mother for help.
She's isn't much help.
She holds Lyle up, making him laugh as she makes a face at him.
"Everly!"
"What?" She peeks around Lyle to look at my father, and she shakes her head. "He's not wrong. Jason told you it's going to be a bad storm. It's predicated to last all week. You pulled all the soldiers off the patrols yourself."
"So, you have no one securing the faction?" my grandpa takes this in and leans back to look down at my father. "Then absolutely not will Eva return. Neither will Adam. No security, no way."
"We have security!" My father answers hotly, and he looks mad enough that he might smash something. "We have plenty of security. But you've kept Eva here for…"
"They've only been here a couple of days," my grandmother cheerfully lies, and she sits on the arm of my grandpa's chair. "Harrison hasn't even started his investigation yet. Eva and Adam are the main witnesses. You agreed when you left the first time."
My father groans as my grandmother reminds him of something he doesn't want her to. He shuts his eyes tightly, and I watch as he presses on his temples in an attempt to ward off his headache.
They'd shown up right after dinner.
I was completely surprised to see them, but unsurprised to find that it felt like they were from another world. My father stomped in in his full uniform, shaking snow from his hair and glancing around suspiciously. My mother followed, dressed in snow boots and a sundress, but at the very least she had on a uniform jacket.
They both froze when they realized we were all eating dinner, and their presence seemed intrusive.
It wasn't really.
But it felt like it.
I stood up to hug them both, crushed against my father's chest and hugged as tightly as possible by my mother. My father held onto me so firmly I thought for sure he might just drag me to the truck, but he didn't. He only let go when my grandmother called his name, then he went to say hello to Adam.
My mother and I both watched him as though this whole scene was a dream, because he was ignoring my grandma. He waved off her request to take off his snow-covered boots, and instead bent down and whispered something to Adam. Adam nodded, my father sort of patted Adam on the arm and then asked if my grandpa could talk for a few minutes.
My grandfather immediately refused.
It was clear they'd come to bring us back to Dauntless. I understood their concern, but I was finding that I didn't really want to leave, and neither did Adam.
"My jurisdiction, my witnesses. You'll have them back next week." Grandpa crosses his arms and looks smug as my mother shrugs and continues to play with Lyle. "Everly, you look nice. It's good to see you."
He pauses, and my father makes a grunting sound in disagreement.
"Eric, you don't think she looks nice? You're sitting there looking madder than when Max made you let someone else train Everly."
"She does look nice. If we weren't in the middle of a blizzard." My father's words are sullen, and he sulks against the couch. "I told her it was cold outside."
"Eric, I told you, I couldn't find any pants. I think Carol threw them all out. She told me she doesn't like pants, either." My mother looks over at Adam and me, and she smiles. "I even looked in Eva's room. Not a single pair of pants anywhere."
"Well, that's good. In a week's time, my whole family will die of hypothermia and I'll live out the rest of my days in Dauntless alone because no one checks Jason's weather app or dresses accordingly," my father dryly retorts, and he makes a face when Ginger hops off Adam's lap to wander over to him. She looks back at Adam, apologetically, then raises her arms for my father to pick her up. "No."
"ERIC!"
Everyone in the room says his name, and he scowls even deeper as he reaches down to pick up Ginger. She squeals in delight as he picks her up, still only one shoe on, and no tights, either. She settles against him, then reaches for his arm and tries to take off his watch.
"Don't be stupid. You won't die alone. No one is dying from not wearing pants or any other reason. Except for Peter. He'll be dead soon."
My grandpa's words hover in the air between everyone, and Rick tries to appear very interested in the fire. "Uh, who's dying? Who is Peter? Ginger hates pants, too. Refuses to wear anything under the dresses."
"Everly, I need to tell you something," Holly whispers, but she's about as subtle as my grandpa with her plans. "It's um, important. Maybe we should go outside."
"Everly goes not need to go outside. She barely has clothes on!" My father barks over Ginger, trying to hold his arm up so she can't reach his watch. Ginger responds by shrieking, then yanking on his jacket collar.
"I have clothes on. Focus on your niece over there." My mother responds sweetly, then stands up with Holly. "We can go upstairs. Zander asked me to grab him a shirt anyway."
"My niece?" my father mutters, but he relents, giving Ginger his arm where she immediately returns to undoing his watch. "I forgot we're related. At least you have an interest in technology."
"She also likes Adam," Rick offers, and he's still by the fire. He's so close I'm surprised his shirt hasn't ignited. "She sat with him the other night. Wouldn't leave him alone."
"She definitely wouldn't leave me alone. She kept saying…baby…every time she came by me," Adam nudges my arm and I can't help but crack up.
"She's madly in love with Adam. I'm surprised she left him to go sit over there," I elbow him back, and I take a drink of the hot chocolate. "Dad, how did you even get here? Everything is covered in snow."
"We have a few trucks we use to plow the roads. The team was working all day, so we decided to come by and get you. I'm sure you've both had your fill of Amity. Plus your friends miss you. The French one was in my office this morning, asking if you would be back soon."
He looks smug when he says the last part, but both Adam and I stay quiet. The whole room is quiet, even my grandpa.
I stare at my hot chocolate, and Adam stares at his.
"Eva? You guys…don't you guys want to come back to Dauntless?"
My father's voice is strained. It's full of disbelief, like he was so sure we'd jump on the first chance out of here that we could.
"Adam?
Adam and I look at my father first, then each other, and his eyes search mine.
His answer is a big, fat no.
He doesn't want to leave, and I slowly realize neither do I.
Not yet.
"I think we should stay until Peter is found. We really haven't gotten to talk to Grandpa about anything that happened. I thought maybe we could go back to where Jeremy was." I make this decision for the both of us, figuring the worst my father could do was launch Ginger back at Rick and demand we leave this very instant.
But if my grandpa had anything to say about that, and he did, it wouldn't be happening.
"Then come back tonight. You can both be questioned in Dauntless. Harrison, you can come too. I'll drive you there myself."
"You're exceeding your jurisdiction, Eric. And if I recall, you were big on pointing out when someone overstepped the boundaries." My grandpa sips his coffee slowly, and he's unbothered as ever. "They spend another week here. If I have to, I'll get Kang involved. He lives for this drama and he's had none lately."
My father narrows his eyes.
He looks around, trying to see if my mother can help him, but she's slipped out with Holly.
"You're sure you can keep them safe? How can you be so certain?"
"You dare question my ability to keep them safe?" My grandfather's insult is clear as day, and he full on glares at my father. "I kept you safe for years. You would have wound up dead from your own arrogance had I not looked out for you."
"No, I wouldn't have," my father rolls his eyes, and he sinks further down in the chair as this conversation does not go the way he's hoping. "Adam, you don't want to go back? Eat some real food? Something other than….a salad and some weird vegetables?"
Adam smartly looks up at the ceiling, pretending to be thinking this over. My grandmother waits for this answer as well, though she looks much more patient.
Too bad Adam's answer doesn't make my father any happier.
"I think maybe we should stay, just until they have an idea of what happened in the woods. They could be watching to see why they haven't seen us around Dauntless. And actually, Eden made us chicken fingers tonight. They were really good. She made macaroni and cheese, too. So, I agree with Eva."
"Wonderful."
My father mutters the word, and he gives up on life when Ginger pulls on his face to look at him. He stares down at her, his eyes wide and unimpressed as she places one sticky hand on each of his cheeks and leans in.
"Do you want me to get her?" Rick asks from his spot near the fireplace, sounding as nervous as he should be. There was a high chance my father would launch Ginger back at him, or into the fire place, niece or not. "She must like your uniform. She seems to like the color black."
It's the best reason he can come up with for why Ginger would like the scowling man currently holding her, but my father shakes his head. He smiles slightly, just enough that his lips turn up, and Ginger throws her arms around him and more or less slobbers all over his cheek in an attempt to kiss him.
"Ginger!" Rick is rightfully horrified, but she pays no attention to her dad.
"It's fine. This is fine. She's just…drooling on me."
My father's answer is drowned out by the return of my mother and Holly, laughing as they walk through the living room.
The conversation changes from my father trying to take Adam and me back to Dauntless, to Holly's upcoming birthday, and just like that, my father loses out to my grandpa for the second time.
It becomes crystal clear that despite my father's wishes, we aren't leaving Amity.
At least not tonight.
"Are you sure you don't want to come back? I can take you both. Harrison can't stop me."
My father stands next to the bed, examining the guest room suspiciously. His hair is messed up from Ginger, not quite as neat as it had been when he first arrived, and visibly disheveled. Ginger liked him just as much as she liked Adam; she stayed with him until she fell asleep, then sobbed when Rick woke her up by trying to move her from him.
My father had smirked, but he looked relieved when she was off his lap and safely back in her father's arms.
He looks less relieved now, as he steps further into the room like it's a trap, and glances around furtively.
"Eva?"
"No, I'm okay. I really think we should talk to grandpa about Jeremy. I think we can help find Peter." I answer him from my spot on the bed, curling my feet beneath me and wondering if he was really returning to Dauntless without us. "It might help them find him."
"What have you been doing all week? Why hasn't he talked to you already?" My dad sounds grouchy, and his fingers touch the light switch. "He's had days…"
"We've been busy," I answer quickly, trying to think of something I could tell him we'd been doing. Explaining that we'd mostly been in bed probably wouldn't go over well, and neither would telling him that board games won out over talking about strange men in the woods. "It's been nice to catch up with Grandma."
"I see."
He's distracted by the bathroom door, and his eyes go back and forth between the door, and me.
"Where's Adam?"
"I think he's taking a shower," I watch his face make a funny grimace, but I'm saved by my mother appearing. Her arms are full of Zander's clothes, and she stops by my father and gestures for him to take them. "Is that all for Zander?"
"Yeah, he said his shirts keep disappearing. When he heard we were coming by, he asked if I could bring some back." My mother looks around the room and smiles widely. "Hey this is nice! I like it in here. It's much nicer than where we stayed."
My father is silent.
He stands behind her, looking around the room and then finally at me. There's an air of resignation to him, like he's realized we aren't leaving with him and there's really nothing he can do about it.
Some betrayal is there, too.
"You're sure you want to stay? I didn't like this idea the first time, and I don't like it now."
"I know. But we'll be fine, I promise," I rise up from the bed, smiling as he continues to scowl around Zander's million shirts. "We'll be back in a week. We can celebrate the end of our initiation then. Is it over yet?"
"Basically," my mother answers for him, and she hugs me tightly. "I miss you so much, but I'm glad you're staying. I think you guys deserve some time away from Dauntless."
"It'll go by super quick. I think we'll both be glad to go home then. Hey, I wanted to ask you," I pause, making sure Adam is still taking a shower. "How's Tris? She knows Adam is here, doesn't she?"
My mother touches my hair, smoothing it down and smiling brightly. "Yeah, she does. She's…really happy. She said he had no hesitation in coming back for you."
"And Four?" I untangle myself from her, and I hug my father the best I can. He tries to hold on, but he loses out to my grandma yelling that she has more clothes for Zander. "Is he good?"
My mother looks at me, then my father, then smiles smugly.
"He's…busy. He's covering a lot since we left, but he's good."
"Wonderful. That's all that matters in life, that Four is good." my father dryly comments, and he reaches for my mother's hand. "Eva, enjoy your stay. I'll be back in a week to get you. Don't let Harrison trick you into wanting to live here. In the summer, there's alligators in the lake."
"Eric, there are not," my mother smacks him, and he smirks at her attempt to shut him up. "We'll see you soon. You guys be good."
"I'll miss you both!" I cheerfully wave as they turn to leave, and I watch them head down the hallway. My mother turns back to smile again, and I have a feeling she knows exactly what's been happening here.
She turns to follow my father, and she asks if he has her cell phone.
I shake my head, and I know for a fact that in a few minutes, so will Tris.
A few days later, the Dome is freezing.
I stand at the end of the serving line, patiently waiting for my grandpa to appear. I wasn't here to eat, but to find Adam and my grandpa. I'd gotten here right as the dinner line was dying down, and everyone was pretty content with their evening. The snow had stopped, the sun had even come out for a few measly hours, and it felt marginally warmer than it had.
Until you got outside.
But it wasn't bad. Holly brought me a bunch of leggings, and loaned me warmer shirts, and the walk here was manageable. She'd given me a pair of boots that were just a little big, and the laces refused to stay tied. I swore at the fact that Adam had gone before me, accompanying Woody and Forrest on some secret errand, when I nearly broke my ankle and died in a snow bank without anyone around to witness such an event.
My stomach had dropped when I slipped on some ice, and it drops that very same way now, when I find Adam talking to the man who was at my grandparent's house a few days ago.
Shit.
"Adam!"
I say his name loudly, trying to hurry past the people milling around to turn their plates in. He's just far enough away that it takes me longer than I'd like to get to him, and I nearly get taken out by a family of six, all vying to get dessert before anyone else.
"Hey! I've been looking for you!" I come to a screeching halt as I make it around the corner, and they both turn to look at me. "Adam! I need you!"
"You okay Eva?" Adam smiles at me, and so does our guest.
Except his is pretty frosty.
His stare is the same.
He drags it away from Adam to look at me with complete contempt.
"Hey, sorry I didn't come and get you. I was helping your grandpa and then I ran into…"
"Marcus."
The man says his name friendly enough, but it's not friendly in any way. He looks annoyed by my presence, his gaze sweeping me up and down, then he forces a nicer expression back onto his face.
"Eva Coulter. How nice it is to see you again."
He sounds anything but thrilled to see me.
"I was just asking Adam if he could help me for a few minutes. Amity is normally big on helping others, but they're all busy this evening."
My heart nearly stops. I feel it clench up painfully, because there was no way he should know my last name. I doubt Adam would have told him, and I especially doubt my grandpa would have announced it.
Everything around me grows hot and fuzzy as Marcus leans over to talk to Adam. He keeps his tone low, carefully excluding me, then gestures outside. Adam nods at him, then takes a step to follow him. "Be right back, Eva."
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
"Adam, wait I need your help!"
I follow him immediately, grasping his hand in mine to stop him, but he looks down at me in surprise.
"Can you give me like ten minutes? I told Marcus I'd help him carry a few meals to some people outside. They're the ones he told us about." Adam takes my hand in his, and his fingers tighten for a moment. "Actually, why don't you help us? I guess there's only a few of them, but if you help, we can take the boxes all at once."
"Okay," I agree immediately, but I'm panicking.
I don't know why this man evokes such a violent reaction in me, but he does. My stomach has knotted itself up so tightly I could throw up, and it's hard to breathe normally. It was a pretty extreme reaction to a man I'd only met a few days ago.
"Marcus was just telling me about uh, my dad and his life back in Abnegation."
Adam keeps talking, and I realize I'm not even carrying anything. As if on cue, Marcus shoves a box in my hands, and I wince at the cold weather and the heavy weight hitting my chest. I glance around to see if anyone is out here, but there's no one.
Just cold piles of snow, and a low groan as the trees rustle.
"You're…you're Adam's grandfather?" I try to step carefully, still hoping someone is out here. Even Alex. But there's no one, only the fading sun struggling to stay lit.
"I am. I was just telling Adam the struggles I had raising him. It's no surprise to me that he wasn't the greatest father." Marcus speaks easily, and he's a step ahead. He pauses to make sure we're following him, and I realize he's leading us behind the Dome.
Into the woods.
The deja vu is terrifying.
This was bad.
Very bad.
I hadn't really heard anything about Four's father, which made his appearance all the more concerning. Usually my father would have at least cracked a joke or two, but he'd never even mentioned him before.
At least not that I remember.
All of this meant this was going to get bad, really fast. I glance around furiously, trying not to scream as Marcus leads us outside, further away from where everyone is.
This was my fault.
I should have called my father, and I'd forgotten. I'd been too distracted by the warm bubble of happiness that I completely forgot someone had shown up to my grandparent's house and knew my name. I'd forgotten how I immediately felt weird around him, and how he'd made me incredibly uneasy.
Now, we were both going to pay for this mistake.
I try to think fast, but it's impossible.
"Hey, uh Adam, can I borrow your jacket? I'm freezing and this one isn't very warm," I blurt out, watching the back of his head turn to look at me. He smiles as he stops to shrug off the heavy coat he has on. He hands it to me, and I struggle to grasp it around the box. "Thank you."
I stop to put it on, and Marcus' expression isn't pleased.
"We need to keep going. Some of them haven't eaten in days."
His tone is surprisingly impatient for someone from Abnegation, and for a minute, I hope he's really taking us to bring these boxes to a family in need. But I have a feeling he isn't. There's no way a family is living in the woods, or even waiting in the woods.
"Eva, can you hurry?" Marcus looms over me, and when I look up, all I see is his face and a cloudless sky.
"Give her a second. She's coming," Adam looks at Marcus in confusion, and Marcus realizes his tone was a mistake. His face slips back into something more pleasant, and he nods.
"My apologies. I just don't want to keep them waiting."
"I'll be right behind you. I've got to tie my shoe," I set the box down, and slide the coat on quickly. I crouch down to fumble with the laces on the boots Holly had given me, and I lose out to the cold snowy laces and numb fingers.
"Okay," Adam agrees, and he takes another step forward. Marcus is pacified by this, and they take off together, lowly discussing Adam's father.
"Shit." I forget about the lace, and I glance up as I frantically search the jacket pocket for Adam's phone.
I didn't have mine, but there was a chance Adam had his. My fingers find the cold plastic in the coat, and I silently rejoice. I know I don't have long, maybe only a few more seconds, so I swipe up from the bottom and pray the phone unlocks.
It does.
I keep one eye on Marcus and Adam, now a few feet away as they trudge onto an unpaved pathway, and I click on contacts. Marcus' head moves to turn back to see what I'm doing, but Adam says something to him, and his attention goes right back to him.
"Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease." I whisper to myself, and I make a snap decision on what to do.
It's a long shot, but I press the letter D, and I hit dial without looking.
I can only hope he's stored his father in his phone as Dad.
I set the phone down beside my shoe, into the damp earth and wet snow, and I hear the phone ring lowly. It's so quiet that it's barely there, but the sound seems amplified by the snow. With each ring I feel a wave of nausea wash over me, but it finally connects on the fifth ring.
"Adam?"
"How far away from the Dome are we going? Is it far into the woods?" I call out to Marcus and Adam, and I go back to tying my shoe. I try to stall for a few more minutes, praying that Four will realize where we are and what's going on, and not hang up or try to call back.
"Adam?...Eva?"
Four's voice is tiny, so little that it's like the ghost of him whispering from beyond, and I resume trying to knot the lace. My trembling fingers slip, crashing into each other as the lace drops.
"Marcus, is it much further? Because Adam and I really should get back to my grandpa…"
My voice shakes, breaking as I trail off, because Marcus is in front of me. Tall and blocking the weak sunlight, frowning down at me.
"Eva, I said we're waiting."
He takes a step even closer, like he's going to step right on top of me, but instead, he steps right on Adam's phone, smashing it into tiny pieces.